The Urako Incident
by Aryanne
Summary: [On Hold]Yamcha has been kidnaped by an unknown and powerful adversary. Puar seeks Bulma's help to find her friend, but when Bulma is attacked herself and barely manages to survive, she must persuade Vegeta to help her rescue Yamcha.
1. A Wake up Call

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or even one episode of it. I'm just a hopeless fan, so hopeless that I have written several long stories about people that do not exist and I now actually believe that they may exist in another dimension.   
  
*You should probably read my fanfic called Can't Resist first, or it may take you a while to piece together what's happening.*   
  
  
  
The Urako Incident   
  
  
  
"So what happened last night with you and Vegeta?" Neliyah asked, barging into Bulma's room the morning after the reunion.  
  
"Ahh! Go away!" Bulma mumbled, rolling over on her stomach and pulling her pillow over her head as Neliyah turned on the lights.  
  
Neliyah strode over to the windows and drew open the curtains, letting sunlight flood in. "Tell me, Bulma! It's nine thirty for Kami's sake, and I've been dying to know ever since you left."  
  
"Come back in a couple hours." Bulma muttered into her mattress.  
  
Neliyah plopped down on the edge of Bulma's bed and pulled the covers off her. "Come on girl, get real. All your relatives are running around this huge mansion, and you're holed up here in bed."  
  
"Ugh." Bulma moaned, holding the pillow over her head tighter. Neliyah tried to pull it from her grip, but Bulma clung too tightly.  
  
"Oh twi-ins!" Neliyah called. "You can spray Bulma with your water guns now! I'll protect you from her wrath."  
  
Nervous laughter drifted in from the hallway.  
  
Bulma rolled over onto her back, plopping the pillow down on her chest, and gave Neliyah a tired look of exasperation. "I don't care. Let me sleep."  
  
"Okay, real quick now boys!" Neliyah yelled, diving off the side of the bed.  
  
The two twins who had fruitlessly tried to hit Gohan yesterday got Bulma but good. In a matter of seconds, her hair was soaked, her face was dripping, her nightgown was wet through, and she was sitting bolt upright in bed. Bulma let out a loud piercing scream and dove towards the boys. They were gone in the two seconds it took Neliyah to tackle Bulma and wrestle her into a choke hold a foot from the open doorway.  
  
"Stop it Bulma! They're just kids!" Neliyah exclaimed as Bulma wrenched herself out of the choke hold and pulled herself to her feet.  
  
"I can't believe you, Nel! You are so immature!" Bulma yelled as Neliyah scrambled to her feet.  
  
"Okay! I'm sorry I told them to squirt you, cuz!"  
  
"Squirt me! I'm drenched! They my as well have dumped ten gallons of water on me!" Bulma exclaimed, grasping a hunk of sodden nightdress in her left hand and holding it up for Neliyah to see.  
  
"Umm . . . sorry?" Neliyah tried.  
  
"Ahh!" Bulma cried, exasperated, advancing towards Neliyah.  
  
"Now Bulma, it wasn't that bad, was it?" Neliyah reasoned, backing slowly away from Bulma.  
  
"YES!" Bulma yelled, jumping at Neliyah and grabbing her throat with both hands.  
  
"Cat fight." a bemused voice sounded from the doorway.  
  
Bulma glanced over at the person in the doorway. It was Vegeta. She loosened her grip around Neliyah's throat for a split second. Neliyah twisted out of her grasp and darted out the door, mouthing a quick thank you to Vegeta as she went. Bulma sighed and plopped down on the spot where she stood, the middle of the room.  
  
"It's not every day I see you sopping wet trying to strangle your cousin at nine thirty in the morning." Vegeta remarked, surveying the room with its sopping wet bed and equally wet occupant.  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Bulma muttered, grabbing a hank of her loose hair and wringing the water droplets out. "And I thought you would be the one my relatives got to first."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "Your mother sent me up to tell you to go out for breakfast and then go food shopping. The relatives cleaned out the fridge. You should see the cook woman down there freaking out."  
  
"Her name's Vera. Have some respect, she cooks your food." Bulma groaned. "Aw heck. Did you eat yet?" she asked, laying back on the wooden floor and staring up at the ceiling fan.  
  
'Of course. What happened to you?" Vegeta asked, noticing the way the cotton nightgown clung to her body.  
  
"Neliyah wanted to wake me up, so she got those twins to spray me with the water guns I upgraded. Well of course I woke up . . . She had to tackle me and she tried to apologize, but I just went at her . . . Hey! You're rubbing off on me!" she accused.  
  
Vegeta snickered. "It's an improvement."  
  
Bulma stuck her arm up, waiting for Vegeta to come over and help her up. "The least you could do is help me up after all you've done to me." Bulma ordered, listening to the creak of the floor boards under Vegeta's weight as he moved towards her. She stopped staring at the ceiling fan and looked at his face as it appeared in front of her.  
  
"I don't know why I let you hang out with me." Vegeta said, reaching down and grasping Bulma's wrist, then pulling her up in a smooth motion.  
  
"It must be my winning personality." Bulma supplied just before they shared a kiss.  
  
"Ugh. You're making me wet, woman." Vegeta complained against her lips.  
  
"Blame my cousins - all three of them." Bulma mumbled back. "Come out to breakfast with me?' she asked.  
  
"I have to train." Vegeta reminded her softly.  
  
"My mom's giving morning tours of the GT." Bulma informed him.  
  
"I'll do calisthenics on an island then."  
  
"Come to breakfast with me. I'll make a grocery list while I'm there and then I'll give it to the store. They can send the stuff over here. Then I'll come with you." Bulma suggested.  
  
"No thanks. I'll come to breakfast, but I'm not taking you anywhere after that."  
  
"Why not, Vegeta?" Bulma pouted.  
  
"Too much of a distraction." he kissed her a last time. "I need to be focused to I can get stronger."  
  
"I guess I can live with that. I like being a distraction." Bulma laughed.  
  
"I'll meet you at the front door in twenty minutes then. I know you need time to - dry off." Vegeta stated, taking in her damp state again.  
  
"Make it ten. I'm really hungry." Bulma amended.  
  
"Ten then." Vegeta agreed, letting go of Bulma and walking out the door and downstairs without a backwards glance.  
  
Bulma shut the door behind him and locked it for good measure, in case one of her relatives tried to get in. 'Wow. I distract Vegeta of all people. I didn't know it was possible. Well I guess I should've when I said he was kinda cute the day we got back from Namek. Boy was he flustered then.' she smiled at the memory and padded into her bathroom to take a quick shower. 'Not that I really need one after this morning . . .' 


	2. Puar

Disclaimer - I don't own DBZ.  
  
A/N- There may be a little OOCness, but I try not to. Hope you enjoy.  
  
The Urako Incident  
  
Vegeta was amused that his woman could be such a tigress. He doubted she would've really hurt her beloved cousin Neliyah though. They went too far back for that. She probably would've come to her senses before she actually strangled her. The whole episode just reinforced his suspicion that Bulma could be taught to fly and many other aspects of martial arts if the notion ever got in to her head. For his own sake he hoped it never did. Humans seemed to latch on to people and ideas, or even inanimate objects. She'd be able to sense exactly where he was at any time and then fly over and find him. He shuddered. He'd have to make sure that idea never entered Bulma's head.  
  
He'd reached the door to his room when a voice behind him piped up. He sensed it was Bulma's annoying cousin, Neliyah.  
  
"Is she still mad at me, Vegeta?"  
  
He turned around and gazed down at her, bemused. "How should I know? I'm no mind reader."  
  
"Oh come on Vegeta, this is serious!"  
  
"How many squabbles have you two had over the years?" Vegeta remarked.  
  
"Umm . . ."  
  
"She'll get over it." Vegeta stated.  
  
"I guess I'll talk to her later, when she's cooled down then. Listen, you're good for her, Vegeta. Stick with it and thanks." Neliyah said, giving his arm a pat. She walked away towards the patio, where Vegeta could hear a good part of Bulma's crazy family talking.  
  
"Hey man, that eating contest was really cool!" one of the water gun twins said as they ran in from the patio, stopping in front of Vegeta.  
  
"Yeah! We rooted for you the whole time. That other guy was pretty cool too." the other twin piped up.  
  
"You're the twins who sprayed Bulma a little while ago." Vegeta said. "I'd stay out of her way if I was you."  
  
"Thanks for the warning, mister. Hey, do you know where Gohan lives? We made friends with him yesterday?."  
  
"Bulma knows." Vegeta smirked, walking into his room and closing the door. Being him, he could hear the twins gulp. As he changed his damp clothes, replacing them with the human clothes Bulma had bought him, he ran through his mental list of places to train. An island was usually okay, but NWC, the Nihon Weather Channel, had said a hurricane was due in a couple hours, so he scratched that out. A lonely spot in the wilderness would have to do, as long as it was far away from Kakarott. He wasn't really hungry since he'd had such a big breakfast, plus the dumb contest the day before. Still, time with Bulma away from her relatives would be okay. Showing off his woman to the weak human males would be an enjoyable experience. Vegeta finished changing, grabbed his wallet - a necessity if you wanted to get anything done on this planet - and headed for the front hallway.  
  
"Why you're that nice young man from the eating contest," a grand motherly lady sitting on a couch said as Vegeta was passing through the living room.  
  
He stopped walking and nodded curtly. Bulma had impressed upon him the fact that things wouldn't go very well for him in the future if he wasn't at least civil to her elderly relatives.  
  
"Well you certainly are a looker! I take it you're off to take Bulma out to breakfast. I heard you were. Well I'll let you get on your way. Nice meeting you." the woman called as Vegeta continued on.  
  
He raised a hand to acknowledge the farewell. 'These earth women sure are more saiyan-like than the men.' Vegeta thought as he passed a couple. The woman was scolding her husband, who gave Vegeta a look of resigned suffering. 'I can commiserate with him.' Vegeta thought, finally reaching the front door. He was surprised to see Bulma already there waiting, a purse that matched her outfit slung over her shoulder. Thankfully, there was no one else in the vicinity.  
  
"Hi, Vegeta! Ready to get out of here?" she asked as he reached her. Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. Bulma sighed and rolled her eyes. "They better not have ordered pizza." she threatened as she opened the door.  
  
A delivery man dressed in coveralls was standing on the front step. "Hello ma'am. Is there a Vegeta Saiyan here?" he asked, consulting his clipboard.  
  
Bulma was surprised. 'What could a delivery man want with Vegeta?' she wondered.  
  
"Right here." Vegeta said, stepping in front of Bulma and on to the front porch step.  
  
"Yes of course. Hello, sir. I've got a letter here and here's the keys to the car you won. It's right out front. Congratulations, sir. Please sign here." He held the clipboard out to Vegeta and handed him a pen. "Just there, sir." he said, pointing to the spot again.  
  
Vegeta signed and then handed the clipboard and pen back to the man.  
  
"Arigato, sir." the man said. "Nice meeting you, ma'am. Your husbands a talented guy." he jogged away, climbed in to his delivery van, and drove off.  
  
Bulma stood inside the door, staring at Vegeta in shock.  
  
He turned to her and smirked. "What do you say I take you out to breakfast?" He took her arm and led her through the doorway to the porch steps. Reaching behind her, he shut the door and, taking her elbow, led her down the front steps.  
  
"Where did you get that car from?" Bulma asked, pointing at the shiny new black Corvette Stingray.  
  
"Not important. Come on." Vegeta dismissed her question.  
  
Bulma gave him and incredulous look. "Oh yes it is! Tell me how you got that car!"  
  
"I won it in a daredevil contest a couple weeks ago."  
  
"So you won that car in a contest?! I didn't even know you had a driver's license! I don't suppose you've entered anymore contests and won other prizes. Have you?" Bulma asked, hands on her hips.  
  
"Let's just say I now have credit cards and a large bank account." Vegeta smirked. "It's so easy to make money on this planet."  
  
"What else have you been up to behind my back?" Bulma asked, walking over to the car and circling it appreciatively.  
  
"I spend most of my time training, but I did het my driver's license a month or so ago. Don't tell Kakarott. Let's go." Vegeta said, opening the driver's door and sitting down. "Where's the restaurant you had in mind?" he asked, shutting the door.  
  
"Over on 18th street." Bulma answered, skipping the opening the door part and hopping over the side into the passenger's seat. She set her purse in her lap and drew on her seatbelt. "Say, what kind of driver are you?"  
  
"I passed the test, didn't I?" Vegeta said defensively.  
  
"Come on Vegeta, tell me!"  
  
"I'm a good driver as long as no one gets in my way. Is that good enough for you, woman?" he asked sarcastically, slipping the key in the ignition and starting the car. "Besides, you've got a lot of nerve considering your driving." he added as he put the car in to hear and drove towards the heart of the city.  
  
"What about my driving?" Bulma asked huffily, crossing her arms.  
  
"It sucks. It's the whole reason I entered a contest with a car as a prize."  
  
"My driving is not that bad, Vegeta!" Bulma said angrily.  
  
" I didn't say it was bad, I just said it sucks." Vegeta corrected, breaking for a red light.  
  
"Why do you always have to ruin everything? We were getting along fine ten minutes ago." Bulma fumed, turning her head to look at the scenery.  
  
"How is commenting on your driving ruining everything?" Vegeta asked, bemused.  
  
"You know what I mean, Vegeta!" Bulma replied a bit sulkily.  
  
"In case you never noticed, you're the only one who gets angry." Vegeta pointed out as the light turned green. "I think I manage to keep my temper in check very well, arigato. You're the one who makes buildings fall down when you lose it!"  
  
"So you're acknowledging my superiority."  
  
"No. Just your pig-headedness." Bulma muttered.  
  
"What do I have to say to get you to shut up and enjoy yourself?"  
  
"I shouldn't have to tell you that."  
  
"What's the place called, then?"  
  
"What place? Don't change the subject!"  
  
"The place we're eating at. Have you forgotten where we're going, angry woman?"  
  
"The Iris Café. That's it up ahead." Bulma pointed. "Sorry, Vegeta. I guess I . . . Hey what am I apologizing for?! Ugh! Let's just forget the whole thing." Bulma said, unstrapping her seatbelt as Vegeta parallel parked in to the space.  
  
"Okay. I admit your parallel parking skills may be a tad more polished then mine." Bulma allowed, opening the door and stepping out of the car. "It's only 'cause I hate to drive. Why should I apply my time to getting better at it?" she asked, putting enough coins in the parking meter for two hours.  
  
"Whatever you say." Vegeta said, shutting his door and walking around to the sidewalk where Bulma stood.  
  
They walked into the café in silence. It had a quiet, pleasant atmosphere, a drastic change from the bustle of the city outside. It was about half full. Some of the customers sat surfing the net on computer's situated strategically around the room. A few couples sat talking over cappuccino, though most people were alone. They read books or newspapers, taking occasional sips of their chosen beverage.  
  
A waiter soon glided over to seat them, dressed in an immaculate tuxedo.  
  
"Hello, Miss Brief. Hello, sir. Will it be the usual table in the corner, then?" he asked politely.  
  
"Yes, thank you." Bulma agreed. The two followed the waiter back through the tables and to a secluded table in the back. Once they were seated, the waiter excused himself and went to get their menus.  
  
"You've got class, Bulma." Vegeta said grudgingly, looking around the room. His eyes finally came back to rest on her. "How long have you been coming here?"  
  
"Ten years, give or take. It calms me down."  
  
"You're bluffing."  
  
"Yeah . . . I came here a couple weeks ago with the company lawyer. We left a big tip and I've been back a couple times since." Bulma admitted as the waiter gave them their menus and left again. She didn't know why she liked messing with Vegeta, they hadn't even been at ease with each other for that long. Things had a way of happening fast around Vegeta. That was just fine with her. She liked life in the fast lane, though there was a little too much mortal danger around the Z gang. Still, they were her friends, the best she'd ever had, and she'd vowed long ago to stick by then through thick or thin.   
  
Even Yamcha. She hadn't really talked him since she'd told him to get out of her life. Come to think of it, it was about time she talked to him and made up anyhow, in case he did die against the androids. Yamcha was much weaker than Goku and Vegeta, or even Krillin and Tien, after all. Still, they could always wish him back. What was she thinking worrying about whether Yamcha died or not though? That was two whole years in the future. A lot could change by then. Bulma supposed it was even possible Yamcha could crack down and surpass Krillin, but that would take a bigger miracle than ever Goku could dish out.  
  
Bulma risked a quick glance at Vegeta, who was studying the menu with a bored expression on his face. He'd learned to read food words quickly. 'Gosh, it's really weird to see Vegeta sitting in a café calmly studying the menu. This is too weird. I wonder what he thinks of how fast things are going between us? What would Goku say?' Bulma smiled to herself and scanned the menu once again. 'He'd probably just stare at me at first, all dumb looking, and then maybe put his arm behind his head and laugh all cautiously. Then he'd put his finger under his nose in that weird little habit of his and make some remark to Vegeta. And of course Vegeta would get angry, because if Goku says anything in his presence, he gets angry. Who am I kidding? If he even sees Goku, he gets all mad because he can't beat him. So Vegeta would maybe make some cruel remark and call Goku a name, Kami, saiyans are immature! And if Goku didn't defend himself, he'd get even more mad and power up. So then Goku would be like - Let's take this away from all the innocent people - even though probably most of them aren't that innocent. Then Goku'd say - I don't want to fight you, Vegeta - and Vegeta would power up some more and not stop until Goku agrees to fight him. And the whole time Chi Chi and me would be standing there speechless and finally I'd interject and ask Vegeta what in the HFIL he wanted to fight Goku for, but it would be too late because by then it'd involve his honor. So they'd fly off to fight and then Goku would come back a while later carrying Vegeta, who'd be passed out and he'd help load him into my van and I'd take him back to CC and be stuck with a grumpy sick saiyan for a few days. Then the whole cycle would repeat itself, because Vegeta would want revenge.'  
  
"Hurry up and order. It's the waiter." Vegeta's voice broke in, sounding annoyed.  
  
Bulma snapped out of her daydream with a jerk. "Oh, sorry."  
  
"No need to apologize, miss," the waiter said kindly, obviously not liking Vegeta's curt tone.  
  
"The cheese omelet, a couple biscuits, jam, honey, and a glass of chocolate milk, please." Bulma said, deciding to say the heck with her diet for once and pig out.  
  
"Very good. Will that be all?"  
  
"Add a slice of apple pie a la mode to my order." Vegeta put in.  
  
"Done. Your food will be served in a few minutes, " the waiter announced demurely, gliding away with their menus.  
  
"Why do you always take so much time to decide on everything?" Vegeta asked, still annoyed.  
  
Bulma shrugged, ignored him, and looked around the café for interesting people.  
  
'Why is she so frustrating?' Vegeta wondered. 'She just sits there and stares off into space. One second you think she wants you around, so you give in and let yourself be dragged into whatever dumb idea she's got, the next, she pretends you're not there. But if I tried to leave she'd be all offended and angry.' Vegeta studied Bulma as she absent mindedly traced the pattern on the tablecloth with her index finger. 'I wish I knew what it is in her that draws me to her. And if she'd so angry with me all the time, why does she even bother associating with me? She didn't used to want to. She says she loves me. But she loves her parents and she loves her cousins. She loves Kakarott and his dysfunctional family too. What's different about me? What's the same about me as them? I don't have anyone. . . Except her, I guess. Earthlings are so primitive and strange. Finally! The waiter with my food!  
  
*****************************  
  
"Mmmmm. That was the best breakfast I've had in a long time." Bulma said as the waiter disappeared into the kitchen with their empty plates.   
  
"Ok." Vegeta commented, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
  
"Just okay?" Bulma asked with a smile tracing her lips. She raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
Before Vegeta could reply, there was a commotion up front and Puar came sailing above the waiter's heads. She glanced around frantically. Spotting Bulma and Vegeta, she flew over to them and hovered in front of their table.  
  
"Bulma! Vegeta! You've got to go help Yamcha!" she squeaked frantically in her high voice.  
  
"So sorry, sir. Sorry madam. We'll have this creature removed at once." one of the waiters said, finally catching Puar.  
  
"No! It's okay. I know her!" Bulma protested.  
  
"Are you sure?" the waiter asked, looking quite taken aback.  
  
"You heard her," Puar squeaked angrily as the waiter's grip loosened.  
  
"Yes. I'm sure." Bulma confirmed.  
  
The waiter waked away, looking puzzled.  
  
"What's wrong, Puar?" Bulma asked.  
  
"It's Yamcha! An awful man came and took him away! He didn't want to go!" Puar wept, once again hovering in the air over their table.  
  
"Are you sure? Yamcha's pretty strong. I'm sure he can handle it, Puar." Bulma reassured.  
  
"No. This man was way stronger than Yamcha. Yamcha tried to fight him and he lost. The man let me get away after he'd knocked Yamcha out. He said you're the only one that can help Yamcha, Bulma."  
  
Bulma blanched. "Just how strong was this guy, Puar?"  
  
"About as strong as Vegeta! But he's got a saiyan. He looked like an ordinary human."  
  
Vegeta had been watching Puar in a state of boredom, but his ears picked up the words 'as strong as Vegeta' with surprising clarity. If he could just find the guy, he could maybe get a real challenge! Assuming that the flying cat thing could accurately estimate power levels.  
  
"As strong as Vegeta!?! And I'm the only one that can help him? Did Yamcha put you up to this, Puar?" Bulma asked suspiciously. "I'm not going back out with him."  
  
Puar shook her head 'no' violently. "You've got to help me get him back, Bulma. Come to his apartment with me right now. Maybe you can find some evidence."  
  
Bulma still looked skeptic. "All right, Puar. Come on, Vegeta. I'll need your help if the guy comes back." Bulma said decisively, standing up from the table.  
  
"No. I have to train. If there really was a human out there as strong as me, I'd be able to sense him. The only people I sense are your little gang and weaklings. I'll pay for breakfast and then I'm outta here." Vegeta said scornfully, rising and going to the counter with the check.  
  
Bulma grumbled as she left a tip for the waiter (Vegeta did not believe in tipping.) and stalked out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. Puar silently followed. In a few moments, Vegeta came out and walked to his car.  
  
"Vegeta, I need you to come. This is more important than a few hours of training. Yamcha could be in serious trouble."  
  
"Why should I help him? Do you need a ride there?" he asked, getting in the driver's seat and starting the car.  
  
"Forget you, Vegeta!" Bulma flared, digging through her purse for a capsule. Finding a motorcycle, she pushed the button and threw it on the sidewalk in front of her. "I'll get there myself." she hopped up onto the motorcycle, securing her purse and putting on the silver helmet that came with the 'cycle. "Change into a human real quick and hop on the back, Puar."  
  
"That's alright, Bulma. I'll just change into a rocket and fly above you." Puar squeaked out quickly. She was afraid of Bulma's driving.  
  
"Fine. Bye, Vegeta." Bulma yelled angrily over the roar of the motorcycle's engine as she started the engine. She zoomed off the sidewalk and into traffic, quickly turning a corner and disappearing from Vegeta's sight. Puar flew serenely above her.  
  
Vegeta smirked and roared out of town. He wanted to put some miles on his new car  
  
*************************  
  
"How'd you know where I was, Puar?" Bulma asked as she walked up the stairs of Yamcha's building to his apartment. Her motorcycle was once again a capsule along with her helmet. The only thing she carried was her purse.  
  
"Well," Puar squeaked. "First I went to your house. Your relatives told me where you'd gone. Your mom told me where the restaurant was. Then I just flew to you as fast as I could. I hope Yamcha's alright." Puar sighed as they reached Yamcha's apartment door on the third floor. Puar pulled a key out of her back fur and unlocked the door, floating inside in front of Bulma.  
  
Bulma stepped through the doorway and was immediately shocked at the sight she beheld. The place had been trashed. The wall in front of her had a big Yamcha-shaped hole in it. Through the hole, she could see the kitchen. The walls had man-sized indents in them, leaving the impression that someone had been thrown forcefully against them. 'I have to call the cops.' Bulma thought. 'I doubt they can help much, but at least they'll be on the lookout for Yamcha. I don't think he'd go through this much just to get me back.' Spotting a phone on the kitchen counter, she gingerly stepped through the Yamcha-sized hole in the dividing wall and into the kitchen. Puar stayed in the front room, holding a pair of Yamcha's dirty underwear and sobbing.  
  
Bulma picked up the phone, wondering if Puar knew she was holding soiled boxers, and was relieved to hear a dial tone. She dialed '0' for operator and was soon telling the police Yamcha's address.  
  
"And you don't live there, ma'am?" the police operator's voice asked.  
  
"No. His roommate came over and got me. She's hysterical. Have you sent a car over yet?" Bulma asked impatiently.   
  
"Yes, Miss Brief. They should be there in five minutes. Call back if you have any trouble before they get there, okay?"  
  
"All right. Bye." Bulma agreed, hanging up and turning back towards the living room to tell Puar. She was surprised to see a young man standing in the doorway, his face in shadow. Puar was frozen, gazing up at him in terror.  
  
"Who are you?" Bulma asked. Was this the man who had kidnaped Yamcha?  
  
"You fell into my trap, Miss Brief. Now come here. I want to see the expression on your face when I kill you."  
  
"What?! Get out!" Bulma said harshly, her hand creeping towards the phone.  
  
"I don't like Yamcha much. I should've picked someone else to capture. Maybe I'll kill him in front of you and then kill you in front of her."  
  
"You're crazy!" Bulma exclaimed.  
  
The man slowly raised his finger and pointed at her. A small ball of energy came out and the phone blew up.  
  
Bulma shrieked and jumped away. A shard of plastic cut her left arm below her elbow. A few drops of blood dripped down.  
  
'Oh my Kami! I'm bleeding.' Bulma thought, staring down at the thin cut. She snapped her head up to warily watch the man.  
  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to cut you yet," the man apologized blandly, taking a few steps closer to the Yamcha-sized hole in the wall that separated him from Bulma. "Make this easy for me and come over here, Bulma." His voice held no emotion.  
  
Bulma was running out of options the closer the man got to her. "Run, Puar!" she screamed, hoping Puar would find help.  
  
"But, Bulma!" Puar squeaked in protest.  
  
"Run!" Bulma screamed at her.  
  
Then man made no move to stop Puar as she streaked behind him and out the door. "Fine. No witnesses."  
  
"The police are coming." Bulma's voice trembled despite her will power.  
  
"They'll be too late for you." He walked towards the Yamcha-sized hole in the wall.  
  
"No!" Bulma shrieked, groping behind her and finding the knife rack. Blindly, she pulled one out and held it in front of her. "Stay away."  
  
A/n - Oooh, a cliffy. I wanted to see if it'll make more people review. All I need are a few reviews, notice the 's', to get a little motivation to type up another chapter. *looks around innocently* What? That wasn't a threat. I am so a nice person. 


	3. Bathtime

Disclaimer- Again, I don't own DBZ.  
  
A/N - Again, there might be a little OOCness, but I'm really trying to quit, lol.  
  
Last Time  
  
"The police are coming." Bulma's voice trembled.  
  
"They'll be too late for you." He walked towards the Yamcha-sized hole in the wall.  
  
"No!" Bulma shrieked, groping behind her and finding the knife rack. Blindly, she pulled one out and held it in front of her. "Stay away."  
  
The Urako Incident  
  
*************************************  
  
  
  
He smirked. There was no expression, no feeling whatsoever behind it. It was as if he was a programmed machine. "Knives don't hurt me."  
  
Bulma threw it with all her might. It went through his heart.  
  
He still stood. Shaking his head, he stood aside. Bulma could see the knife lying on the carpet behind him. There was a dent in the wall where it must have hit and then dropped. Again he smirked and started walking forward.  
  
'He dodged it!' Bulma thought frantically. 'He's at least as strong as Goku was before he turned super saiyan. I'm going t o kill Vegeta! He should be here!'  
  
"I am superior to you, Bulma. How could you possibly hurt me if your boyfriend couldn't?"  
  
"He's not my boyfriend!" Bulma screamed, reaching behind her for the other knives and hurling them at the man in a fury. Keeping one in her hand, she bolted out of the kitchen and turned down a small hallway.   
  
She opened the first door. A closet. She opened the first door. A closet. She left it opened and practically flew to the second door. A bathroom. There were two doors left. She could hear his footsteps on the kitchen tile. A TV room. No windows. Not that she could jump from the 3rd floor anyway. She ran to the end of the hallway and frantically turned the knob. She could hear faint sirens. Then man was right. They would be too late for her. The doorjamb was shut. She threw a glance down the hallway.   
  
He was at the first door . . . the second.   
  
She was turning it the wrong way! Yes! She was in - Yamcha's bedroom. She shut the door firmly behind her and locked it. Nothing. No window to jump out even. Just an old bed, a doorless closet, a full length mirror, a laundry chute, nothing to defend herself with. Bulma ran over to the bed and pushed it against the door. It was lightweight. It wouldn't hold back her grandmother.  
  
"Fine. I'll wait to kill you, Bulma. I am sorry. It's not really your fault." His voice was right outside the door. Bulma backed away until she was against the back wall.  
  
"Please don't hurt me." Bulma said quietly.  
  
"I'm moved. I'll only keep you for a while then. Until you serve your purpose. You'd have to be hurt until you know your place though. I promise to be nice if you unlock the door, " he coaxed, jiggling the handle.  
  
Bulma contemplated suicide. After all, she still had the knife, and miraculously, her purse. 'I can't give up, though! My Kami! The laundry chute! I hope there's a basket full of clothes at the bottom.' Bulma prayed, climbing into the chute feet first. 'But I can't bring the knife with me. What if I fall on it?'  
  
"Last chance, Bulma."  
  
"Go to HFIL!" Bulma screamed, hurling the knife at the door and herself down the laundry chute.  
  
Thankfully, it wasn't a straight drop down from the third floor to the basement. There was only a slight angle, but Bulma was grateful for what she could get. She skinned her right elbow on the side of the chute on the way down, but she didn't cry out. If there was no clothes hamper, she didn't want to die with a scream on her lips.  
  
There was a clothes hamper at the bottom, a huge three quarter filled clothes hamper. Her legs didn't absorb the shock too well. It was pain. Pain that started in her feet and sliced up through her ankles to her calves and stopped just above her knees. She fell against the hamper wall and it tilted over. Bulma and the clothes spilled out onto the concrete floor. It was almost pitch black. There was a light coming from behind a tall stack of boxes. It was a window to the street about five feet off the ground. Bulma grabbed around inside a box and came up with a baseball bat. Swinging back, she smashed the window, spraying glass everywhere.  
  
"Bulma, why are you running?" she heard him yell. He was floating slowly down the chute.  
  
'Great, he can fly.' Bulma thought as she dragged a table underneath the window and climbed up and out. She was on the sidewalk in the bright daylight. A hand grabbed her right ankle.  
  
"I can't let you go, Bulma." He said.  
  
Kicking frantically, Bulma managed a lucky shot; her heel caught him in the eye. His grip loosened and Bulma ran into the street, waving frantically as two squad cars zoomed around the corner, sirens flashing and screaming. They slammed on their breaks and skidded to a stop in front of her.  
  
"Miss, what's wrong?" a policeman asked, stepping out of the driver's seat of the first car.  
  
Bulma ran to him. "You've got to get me away! He's coming! He's coming!"  
  
"Relax ma'am." He nodded to his partner who stepped out of the other side of the car. "Who's coming? Are you okay ma'am?"  
  
"No! No! Look! There he is. We've got to leave!" Bulma cried, pointing to the apartment stairs.   
  
The two policeman leveled their guns at the man. One yelled, "Put your hands over your head!"  
  
"Get out of my way. This doesn't concern you." he ordered.  
  
"Put your hands behind you head!"  
  
The man shook his head and sent two energy balls flying at each cop. The balls caught them in the stomach. They flew up into the air. The balls exploded. So did the cops.  
  
Bulma shrieked and dove into the driver's seat of the copless car. She pealed away, glancing back once in the rearview mirror as the other two cops stepped out of their car to face the man.  
  
When Bulma reached the more populated part of town, she ditched the police car in an alley in favor of a motorized scooter. Miraculously, she still had her purse. She ducked into a hair salon and had the beautician speed dry her hair black. She forced herself to drive at a slow pace towards the Capsule house. Once, she saw him hovering above the street, but he'd looked right past her with her jet black hair. She didn't dare go back to the Capsule house after that. She drove to a Jmart and got a new outfit. She gave her old clothes to the Salvation Army. She didn't go home for five hours. At four, she cruised in, exhausted.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
". . . Are you sure you're okay, honey? Maybe you'll need a psychiatrist now. I've heard these things can be traumatizing." Bulma's mother fussed. Bulma was lying in her bathtub, which was filled to the brim with bubbles. Only her neck and head were visible. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid this dye won't come out. You'll have to call the shop. Do you remember which salon it was?  
  
"No, Mom. I was too terrified." Bulma answered, closing her eyes and shuddering.  
  
"Oh! Of course dear. Sorry about that. I'll call around. If no one remembers you, I guess I'll have to make an appointment with your hair specialist. I do love that woman's work! I'm glad you made up with Nel too, dear. She's a great cousin for you. Your father and her are working on hacking into video cameras now. One of them might have seen your escape or Yamcha's kidnaping. And don't worry about Puar. I'll go talk to her now. Okay, hun?" Mrs. Brief asked, petting Bulma's forehead.  
  
Bulma smiled. "Okay, Mom. I love you."  
  
Mrs. Brief stood and smiled. "Oh, I love you too, dear. You're my baby." she blew Bulma a kiss and walked out the door into Bulma's room and then into the hallway.  
  
Bulma leaned her head back and closed her eyes, glad for a moment of peace.  
  
"Where'd he hurt you?" Vegeta demanded, barging in.  
  
"Vegeta! Can't you see I'm taking a bath!" Bulma said startled.  
  
"Yes. I'm not blind. Neliyah and your father told me what happened. Answer my question, Bulma."  
  
"It's just cuts, Vegeta. Cuts and bruises."  
  
"He drew blood."  
  
"Indirectly, yes." Bulma confirmed, disturbed by the look of fury building in his eyes.  
  
"Let me see." Vegeta ordered.  
  
Bulma reluctantly held up her left arm. Vegeta reached out a finger and traced around the cut on her arm where the shard from the telephone had cut her.  
  
"Anywhere else?" he asked, softly, thinking what an insult it was to have his woman hurt.  
  
"My right elbow on the side of the chute and a few glass cuts from the window I broke."  
  
"I'll kill him. Why can't I sense him? I'll be there next time, Bulma." Vegeta vowed.  
  
"You better be. Will you stay around me for a while, Vegeta? He might find out where I live."  
  
"Until he's dead." Vegeta answered grimly.  
  
"Will you help find Yamcha then? He's my friend, and Puar needs him."  
  
"I could care less about Puar, but I'll do it for you. Only you. Not for Yamcha."  
  
"Fine." Bulma agreed. "Come here."  
  
Vegeta leaned over to her and she wrapped her arms around him. He did the same. Their lips brushed gently.  
  
Bulma smiled. "Look. I got you all wet again."  
  
"I don't care." Vegeta said. "I can't get used to your black hair though. I like it better the other way."  
  
"Me too." Bulma agreed, giving Vegeta a squeeze and sinking back down into the bath water. "You know, my relatives complained that I didn't go to the grocery store."  
  
"Want me to teach them a lesson in respect?"  
  
"No. I made them go already. Go into my bedroom and shut the bathroom door so I can get dressed, okay?"  
  
Vegeta nodded and left. He could feel a deep anger stirring. This man had a lot of nerve messing with his woman. 'I hope he shows up. Then I can kill him slowly.' Vegeta thought, sitting down at Bulma's computer to wait. 'I was dumb to let her go when I knew something might be up. Kakarott would never forgive me if she'd died . . . I would never forgive me.  
  
Why can't I sense this punk's energy? He must be masking it. If only that idiot ex of Bulma's would power up so I can sense him. I'll have to wait until he decides to raise his energy high enough for me to sense him. But since I can't sense the other guy, I can't leave Bulma here. She'll have to come with me . . . I suppose I could order one of her friends to come while I went to the idiot, but they all love a fight. They'd just follow me. I'm doing this on my own anyway. I don't need anyone getting in my way.'  
  
Vegeta logged into his email account and scrolled down the messages in the inbox. 'Kami, how much longer can she take. Earth women and their appearance obsessions - utter stupidity. Another email from that Egyptologist, a dumb baka if I ever saw one. Shoot. I can hear Bulma coming to the door. She'll never let me live it down if she knows I got an email address.' he logged off and shut down the computer, swinging around to the face Bulma as she walked in from the bathroom.  
  
"Vegeta, I've been thinking about something that man said that might be a clue to this whole mess." Bulma said thoughtfully, walking to her dresser.  
  
"Hrmph." was Vegeta's only reply.  
  
She fiddled around searching for a hair tie. "When he first came in, he talked about not liking Yamcha much. He said he'd kill Yamcha in front of me end then me in front of her. At the time, I thought he meant Puar. But that doesn't make any sense, since he let Puar get away. I wonder who she is and what she has to do with me?" Finding a hair tie, Bulma drew her black hair into a ponytail. "Yamcha's important to me, so I must be important to her."  
  
Vegeta winced when Bulma mentioned Yamcha's importance to her. 'Why should I care?' he thought stubbornly.  
  
"But Yamcha's more important to Puar than me, so Puar can't be the 'her' he was talking about. Could it be my mom?"  
  
Vegeta snickered.  
  
"You're not helping, Vegeta! He could be madly in love with her and go after Yamcha just to draw me in. Yeah! I'm always around my mom, so he couldn't get me here. She might have spotted him!"  
  
"No one is out to get your mother. That's the stupidest thought you've ever had."  
  
"I don't see you coming up with any brilliant theories! I bet you can't do better." Bulma accused, stalking over to her beanbag chair and plopping down. She glared at Vegeta, who rolled his eyes and began.  
  
"The guy wants to fight me. He wanted to use you to draw me out. He couldn't get you directly because I'm around. So he went after the moron, Yamcha. Probably wanted to test his skills on the moron too. He sent Puar to ask for help, knowing I wouldn't waste my time on the idiot, but you'd come. The 'her' he was talking about is Kakarott's mate. He wants to fight him next. It's that simple." Vegeta leaned back in the computer chair and crossed his arms.  
  
"You are so self-centered. This isn't about you! The world does not revolve around you, Vegeta." It was Bulma's turn to roll her eyes.  
  
"Oh please. My theory is more likely than yours. He's not afraid your mother will see him, for Kami's sake!"  
  
"Whatever, Vegeta. Get up so I can look in the directory and see if I recognize his face."  
  
"That'll take six months. I thought you were a genius."  
  
"Well what do you think oh Almighty Prince? Got any better ideas?" Bulma retorted.  
  
"Of course. Make Neliyah design a program to narrow down the possibilities. You know he's not a woman, so why go through all of them?"  
  
Bulma plopped up from the bean bag chair. "You're right! Good thinking, Vegeta!" she ran out of the room.  
  
"Dying her hair must have affected her brain." Vegeta muttered leaving the room as well and heading to the kitchen.  
  
**********************************  
  
"Where am I?" Yamcha asked dazedly. He was lying on his back, on what felt like cold, smooth concrete. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up. A shooting pain stabbed the back of his head, soon settling to a low throb. Touching his hand to the back of his head, his fingers grew sticky with blood. Yamcha groaned and sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings.  
  
"Well this is just great. One clingy cot and a toilet and sink. I didn't think anything could get worse than my apartment." he muttered. "Kami, it's an old jail cell."  
  
"Not exactly." a voice said from the direction of the bars, to Yamcha's right.  
  
Yamcha jumped up and into a fighting stance. "You're the guy that attacked me! What'd you do with Puar?" he asked fiercely.  
  
"I couldn't care less about Puar. I don't know where she is."  
  
"I'm going to blast out of here and kill you if you don't tell me where she is!"  
  
"Try it. You won't get out of there unless I let you out."  
  
"Don't be so sure." Yamcha retorted, launching himself at the bus. He made contact with his shoulder, feeling the bars give slightly. Then it was as if they came to life, growing unbearably hot. They didn't budge. Yamcha bounced painfully back. The bars were in exactly the same condition as before.  
  
"I told you." he young man said mildly as Yamcha once again assumed his fighting stance. "They're made from my energy, which is far superior to yours. Thanks ro an enchantment, no one can sense them, or anything trapped within them."  
  
"Sounds fancy, but I don't believe you." Yamcha replied before diving at the bars again with no results but another bruise. "Why are you bothering with me? I'm not rich. I'm not the strongest." Yamcha questioned.  
  
"I won't tell you the whole story. Let's just say I'm hoping to use you as bait to reel in a Miss Bulma Brief."   
  
Yamcha's eyes narrowed.  
  
"She's the means to an end to my problem."  
  
"If you hurt her I'll-" Yamcha started.  
  
"You'll what? You're in no position to stop me from anything. You're boring, Yamcha." the man turned to leave.  
  
"You won't get past Vegeta." Yamcha yelled to his back.  
  
The young man stopped walking. "He's not at the Capsule Corp all the time. I'll get past him easily. Now shut up." He left the room, flicking the light switch as he left, throwing Yamcha into total darkness.  
  
***********************  
  
A/N - Hoped you liked it. Just put up a little review there and I'll post a new chapter. Review. Review. And there'll be an update for you. :) 


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